This is a Rebels' Story
by Latona Enelra Caine
Summary: Shortly after the war, Carson makes a surprising discovery on the Crawleys' front doorstep in the shape of a young girl on the brink of death. After taking her in the Crawleys find that what she brings with her is both terrifying and a great blessing for all of them. Watch as the story of a young rebel changes the lives of Downton's residents forever.
1. Chapter 1

**Hi everyone! This is my very first fanfic ever! So naturally I would appreciate any reviews and constructive criticism you could give me. If I do get a good response I will try to get the next chapter up, but it will most likely be in the form of a drabble. Steinbeck wrote narratives before his chapters, I write full-blown chapters then drabbles. I really hope you enjoy this story. **

**This is A Rebels story**

**Chapter 1: In the Beginning there was lightning and blood**

Charles Carson strode towards the door which had been rung while he was down in the kitchens. It was pouring outside in the British land of Downton Abbey. Despite this the Crawleys' respectable home managed to keep a certain warmth inside that made one feel safe despite the raging weather outside. Carson approached the door and opened it to the splattering rain outside which filled the entrance hall with a loud cacophony of sound. The dark sky lit up the grey horizon followed by a rumbling sound of thunder which nearly shook the ground beneath Carson's feet. He stood there with the door wide open as the cold wind pushed in feeling slightly bewildered. No one was here, but then again, who had rung the bell?

"Hello?" he called out into the night. No answer came of course. No one was there. He was about to close the door when he felt something wrap around his ankle in a slack grip. "Gg-Ach!" he cried as his heart hammered away at his chest and whatever had been holding him thumped to the floor.

Carson gasped at the sight before him, there on the doorstep of one of Britain's most prestigious family laid the figure of a girl. Her black hair lay matted against her forehead from the rain and she looked as white as a sheet.

"Dear Lord," muttered Carson as he knelt beside her.

"Please," she gasped in a ragged breath. "Please. I need your help."

Her hand grabbed him by the tie pulling him seemingly close to her face, her other hand lifted from her stomach revealing an alarming amount of blood.

"Mrs. Hughes! Mrs. Hughes please come here!"shouted Mr. Carson. The dilemma of whether to bring her inside or not took hold of him for a moment before he grabbed the girl lifting her into his large arms ignoring all sense of propriety.

"Mr. Carson! Just what is the meaning of this? Shouting at the top of your lungs inside-Oh my!" The housemaids scolding cut off at the sight of the butler holding the injured girl to his chest dripping water all over the Crawleys' clean floor.

"Mrs. Hughes. The girl is badly hurt I'm afraid she might be dying we must get Doctor Clarkson here immediately." He moved towards the drawing-room hesitating at the sight of the blood seeping through the girls white dress. "Where shall I put her? I can't possibly put her in the drawing-room the blood will never get off of the settee and her Ladyship would be appalled." The words sounded ridiculous even to his own ears.

"I'll go fetch Lord Grantham, "replied Mrs. Hughes.

"Fetch me for what Mrs. Hughes?" Robert Crawley asked as he walked down the stairs towards them. As he looked up from the ledger he was reading he started at the sight of his butler and housemaid standing in the middle of the entryway with a young practically lifeless girl in Carson's arms. "My God! Who is this child?"

"M'lord I found the girl lying on the threshold at the brink of consciousness. She is in dire need of the doctor." Carson replied in a rushed tone as Robert strode towards the girl and checked her pulse and breathing. He held his ear directly over her nose listening.

"Mrs. Hughes please go Fetch Dr. Clarkson she is losing a lot of blood." Robert was in fact quite right, Carson glanced down at his hands which had been at her waist and were now drenched in the crimson sticky substance. "Get Anna and tell her to fetch Lady Grantham also grab a spare nightgown for her. Come Mr. Carson let's put her in one of the spare bedrooms." he led the way up the stairs towards the third floor.

_God please help the poor child don't let her die on our watch. Don't let her die period ._Carson silently prayed as he followed Lord Grantham up the stairs.

Carson could feel the child's cold skin through her soaked dress. He blushed slightly at the realization that he was holding the girl in such an intimate way but quickly suppressed the feeling when he reminded himself that this was a life or death situation.

"Through here Mr. Carson put her on the bed." called out Lord Grantham as he led him into one of the guest bedrooms. Carson placed the girl on the bed gently and stood back slightly at a loss as to what he should do.

"Err... She is still cold is she not Carson?" asked Lord Grantham who seemed slightly uncertain about what he should do now that they had the girl in the room.

"Y-yes milord she is quite chilled to the core." said Carson as he too stared at the girl before them. "I believe that all the linens are in the downstairs closet."

"We need to get her warm immediately."replied Robert.

"I can use my jacket." The words left Carson's mouth before he could stop himself. To show his shirtsleeves would be completely inappropriate. Especially near a young lady such as this one.

Lord Grantham nodded, "That will have to do for now."

With a slight grimace, Carson reluctantly removed his dress jacket, and tucked it snugly around the shivering pale girl who laid on the bed. He could not help but feel slightly naked without the black uniform covering him.

The men continued to watch the girl in alarm as she began to shiver even more, her body began to tremble with the cold making her teeth shatter as well.

"Ah Mrs. Hughes, Anna, quickly please her temperature is very low we need to get her as warm as we can make haste please." said Lord Grantham as the women entered the room carrying blankets. "Wait! Everyone stop!" cried Lord Grantham with his hands in midair as a sudden realization struck him. "We need to remove her clothes! They're soaked!"

Mr. Carson's eyes looked like saucers as he listened and diverted his attention to the women. A pregnant pause overtook them for a moment.

Mary and Sybil appeared at the doorway behind the men. "Oh Papa!" Mary said with a sigh. "Anna told us what happened, if you just go outside, we'll put her in one of these nightgowns and we'll call you in when we're done. Calm down, Dr. Clarkson was just phoned he'll be here in five minutes."

"Very well, but please do hurry!" He followed Carson out of the room and with a sigh he slumped against the wall behind him as the door shut after him. "Oh Carson, God help the poor child. What could have possibly happened to get her in such a state?"

He looked towards the usually composed butler who now had his hair slightly disheveled and looked quite pale himself. "I've not the faintest idea milord. You see when I found her on the steps, she looked like the breathing image of death. I believe she might have been out in the woods somewhere and gotten shot... There's no other way she could have come into the estate." he shifted slightly with apprehension.

Lord Grantham nodded slightly looking pensive, "Yes, yes you could possibly be right on that assumption Carson. Oh dear, I hope that's all that happened to her." he gasped as a thought hit him.

"M'lord do you mean to imply..." Carson trailed off unable to continue.

"Yes, Carson she could have possibly been forced to give someone carnal knowledge of herself if it was a man who hurt her which is the most likely." Robert confirmed.

"But M'lord, forgive me for saying so but... wouldn't there be... blood?" he asked as his neck flushed.

Robert winced as the sudden direction the conversation was taking. "Possibly. Dr. Clarkson will probably be able to check her over."

Carson immediately straightened up as Lady Grantham appeared at the staircase and began making her way towards the two men.

"Anna told me what happened, have the girls tended to her yet?" she asked with her eyes wide with worry.

"Yes dear, they are with her now, Anna and Mrs. Hughes are helping them." Robert replied.

"How did she get here?" she asked.

"I am not quite sure Milady, she rung the doorbell, but by the time I answered she was already losing consciousness." Carson replied with a furrowed brow.

"Where did that blood come from, Carson? Did you get hurt?" Cora at the sight of the red stains on his shirt sleeves and the side of his face.

"No my dear, that's not his blood. It's the child's." Robert replied.

The door opened and young Sybil appeared in front of them. "Papa, Mama, she's dressed now." she stepped aside allowing the three of them into the room. There in the center of the bed laid the young girl. Her hair looked damp and her pale neck spasmed slightly as she drew ragged breaths into her body. She looked quite lovely. And there like a monstrous reminder was the crimson red stain.

Mrs. Hughes walked over to them with a pile of stained rags in her arms. "I'm afraid her clothes are no longer fit for her to wear again. They're completely tarnished, there's too much blood in them to remove." she said in a low voice.

"We'll find something for her in due time." Cora said softly.

"We laid some cloths on her stomach to try to slow the bleeding but the blood is already seeping through the rag." Edith said as she helped May pull the white bed sheets over her. Anna held a bowl full of red bandages and awaited further instructions.

"Yes, that is excellent. Anna please go down stairs and await Dr. Clarkson's arrival, show him up here the minute he arrives. Bring up some hot water and more blankets after he comes he may need them." said Lady Grantham as she moved towards the curtains and closed them.

"Yes Milday," Anna quickly brushed passed them.

Carson blushed slightly under Mrs. Hughes gaze who seemed to have noticed that he had a considerable amount of blood on his livery.

"Perhaps we should ask Mrs. Patmore to cook some stew tonight as well. So that she can eat after she awakens, she seems slightly thin to me..." said Cora.

"Mother I hate to be cynical at times such as these but we must be realistic. We do not even know if she is going to last the next half hour!" said Mary.

"No. Your mother is right, we must carry on as if the girl is going to live." cut in Robert. "She will live.." he said in a more confident tone. "We cannot just stand around and do nothing as a human being nearly perishes before our very eyes."

"Milord..." Anna's said from the doorway. "Dr. Clarkson is here."

"How is she?" the doctor asked as he strode across the room removing his jacket and cuff links. He appeared slightly disheveled and the storm seemed to have caught him for his silver locks hung limp, and dripping near his forehead.

"She's very poorly Doctor. We think she might have been shot the ladies tended to her the best they could." said Robert in a hurried tone.

"Ladies if you would all please clear out of the room? I'm afraid that the wound may be quite gruesome if she did indeed get shot as you suspect." said Doctor Clarkson as he began to pull the blankets down to her waist. The girl moaned in pain slightly. But she seemed to be holding back her cry, almost as if she did not want to make any noise. Her mouth opened slightly as she began to take in shuddering breaths.

"No- no No! I have to go back. I have to help them. I have to help them!" she moaned in desperation.

"She delirious Nurse Crawley please bring me the sedative she's regaining consciousness!" Clarkson said as he tried to hold the girl, who was now writhing in agitation, down.

"Oh God no! He's going to kill them. I need to get back! Lord Grantham! I need to help him! They're going to kill them all!" She wasn't so much as crying now. Instead she was roaring at the top of her lungs as Carson strode over and tried to help Clarkson hold her down. Sweat broke down her brow and her pale skin flushed slightly.

"Nurse Crawley please make haste! She might hurt herself!" snapped Doctor Clarkson as she knocked a glass pitcher over with her arm which shattered into a million pieces on the floor.

A wave of confusion went over Robert as he made his way over to the girl to help the men restrain her. He grabbed her legs just as she managed to dig her foot into his side.

"Good God Almighty!" he wheezed swearing that he had just felt something crack from the blow.

"No! No! I have to help! I have to go back!"she roared arching off of the bed.

"Hold her down gentlemen-quickly on her neck please!" ordered Doctor Clarkson as Sybil pierced the girl's neck with the long silver needle. But to his surprise the girl continued to put up her fight after several minutes of being administered the sedative.

"Doctor Clarkson why is she still awake?" asked Mary in a wavering voice.

"Should she not be unconscious by now?" asked Cora with her eyes wide with horror.

"Oh dear, it's not working Nurse Crawley you'll have to give her more. It seems she is quite resistant to the drug."Clarkson said. Beads of perspiration broke out on his forehead as he held her waist down to the bed.

Sybil refilled the syringe and quickly gave the girl another dosage of the sedative to the neck once more. The girl growled with her teeth gritted as she slowly but surely began to fall under the effect of the drug.

"By my word..." gasped Doctor Clarkson as he slumped over the night stand slightly trying to catch his breath.

Carson had stood up from the bed and wiped at his brow with his handkerchief. His hands which were still soaked the child's blood left slight streaks on the side of his face and on the collar of his crisp white shirt. But he could not quite bring himself to care at the moment.

Robert was likewise wiping at his brow with a handkerchief as well as nursing his side where the young girl had kicked. He winced slightly trying to hide his discomfort but to no avail.

Dr. Clarkson stood and placed his hands on his hips. "I've only ever had to use more than one sedative on soldiers suffering from post-traumatic stress! What in the world has happened to this child!" he asked as he sucked in a gulp of air. He nodded slightly as a fringe of his usually impeccable silver hair fell across his eyebrow. "All right. I'll need you all to clear out of the room and I need a table brought up in here as quickly as possible. Nurse Crawley I'll obviously be in need of your assistance with this."

Mr. Carson immediately sprang into action with Mrs. Hughes trailing right behind him out of the room.

"A table-for what?" asked Mary.

"Lady Mary. I'll need to do surgery on the child of course! The size of that wound is much too great to simply have it stitched up. No I believe she's been shot just as your father suggested. Why or how I do not know. That is only something she can answer." Clarkson replied. "Ah thank you, Carson, Mr. Bates- right over there please." he said motioning towards the side of the room with the large window and the most light. He gingerly lifted the girl into his arms and to his amazement felt her slightly stiffen underneath his grasp. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Mr. Bates eyes linger over the girl with concern etched on his face.

"Lay everything out on the night stand and drag it over here Nurse Crawley. Thank you." he set the girl down on the table and dipped his hands into the basin of warm water that was on the stand. "Please everyone clear out. I'll only have to look for the bullet, see if it penetrated anything else and then I'll clean her up if I can stop the bleeding. Lord Grantham, drink three fingers of whiskey to relax yourself I'll take a look at those ribs when I'm done here. Give some to Mr. Carson as well. He seems to be in dire need of a stiff drink at the present moment in time."

Lord Grantham nodded slightly as he took one last look at the child the filed out after his family.

They all stood in the hall not knowing what to do for several moments.

"Mrs. Hughes could you please help get Carson cleaned up he got quite a lot of blood on him while bringing the child upstairs." Robert said warily breaking the silence. He ran a hand down his face and buried it in his hand pinching the bridge of his nose. "Err-then you can come back down to the drawing-room to wait for some news of the child."

"Yes milord." replied Mrs. Hughes as she led Mr. Carson down the hall.

"Anna can you go and look for some spare nightgowns and dresses for the girl to wear, surely she will be in need of a new nightgown when they are through with her in there."

"Right away milord." Anna quickly hurried down the hall towards the linen closet.

"All right. Bates you can...oh just come with us! You need a drink just as much as I do! We all need drinks!"

Cora's eyes widened slightly as she watched her husband stride towards the stairs.

"Everyone! Quickly!" Robert barked over his shoulder. All of them jumped slightly and started after him with Bates trailing right behind them slightly dumbfounded about how he had gotten himself into this situation. Surely if the Dowager Countess happened upon them she wouldn't be very displeased.

As they all made their way down the stairs a sudden roar reached their ears from upstairs.

"No! No!"

Robert stopped dead in his tracks causing everyone behind him to nearly collide into him. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment imaging the thought of one of his own daughters up there screaming in pain. He sighed and shook his head slightly. "What could they have possibly done to her?" he whispered, after several more seconds they continued down the stairs.

He entered the drawing-room and strode over to the wine table pouring three glasses of whiskey and handing one to Bates.

"Here you go my friend."

"Thank you m'lord." said Bates.

They stood together next to the fireplace watching the flames crack and pop on the logs as his wife and daughters all sat huddled on the settee. Robert watched the flames dance as he took a slow sip of the whiskey. He felt it trail down his throat and let himself get slightly lost in the burning sensation. His eyes narrowed slightly as a sudden thought occurred to him.

"M'lord." Carson cleared his throat making his presence known. He no longer bore any signs of having carried a bleeding girl to the guest bedrooms half an hour earlier. Now he stood before them with his graying hair neatly combed once more his face clean and void of any blood and he wore a new dress shirt under his waistcoat and dinner jacket. His hands were also notably no longer covered in blood.

"Carson. Here you go my good man. Drink that. You look like the walking dead. You've no color on your face at all." Robert handed him the glass of whiskey that he had set aside for the butler.

"Thank you milord I appreciate it." said Carson as he accepted the glass making no move to drink from it.

"Where is Mrs. Hughes?" Robert asked Carson. "I thought I had asked for both of you to come back down." .

"She went back upstairs to help Anna look for some night wear for the young girl m'lord." replied Carson.

"Ah. That makes sense." He kept his eyes on the fire. "Gentlemen. I realize that this is not a typical thing for us to do. This once. I would like to speak to you as men. Not as a butler or a valet. But as a friend."

Carson and Bates both nodded uncertain of what was coming next.

"Mr. Carson. I do not know if you recall this. When the child was screaming, she yelled something that I could not help but find a bit odd..." he trailed of as he met the butler's eye.

"Yes m'lord, she said, 'Lord Grantham I need to help him. He's going to get them all'." Carson said gravely.

Bates eyes widened slightly at Carson's words. "M'lord. Surely you do not believe she was referring to you and your daughters. She quite possibly could have said that there is someone out there that is need of her help." he said in a low voice.

Robert nodded at Bates words. "Yes Bates. I thought of that as well. But the more I think of it the less likely it seems to be realistic." he took another sip of his drink then swirled the amber liquid around in its glass. "By avoiding the notion that there is someone out there trying to bring harm to my family I feel as if I am lying to myself so that I will not have to face this nasty fact. I believe that whoever hurt this girl has set out to get my family as well. Why they want to do this is beyond me. But I think that she was coming here in hopes of warning us."

"Shall we alert the police then?" asked Carson.

"If we alert the police word will spread everywhere that the girl is in fact alive and she will be in more danger." said Bates

"Yes he's right. The whole village will know what is going on thus alerting the culprits that we are onto them." added Robert.

"M'lord shouldn't we perhaps wait before we make preparations, ask the girl what she knows first?" asked Carson.

"Perhaps we should. But I do not want to run the risk of having someone hurt my family or finish what they set out to do to the child." Robert looked to his wife and daughters who all sat looking slightly worried as they discussed what had just transpired. "Tonight we all sleep with one eye open. We need to arm ourselves." he said looking at the men. "They may attempt to enter through the servant's hall. So I shall give both you and Thomas a revolver. We best not risk the safety of the ladies downstairs. Bates I think I'll keep you up here with me. We will guard the second floor. The hall that faces the gates will provide us with a view outside from the windows."

"I will make sure that the windows down here are all locked. The ones below in the entrance hall in the kitchens are always locked so there will be no need to worry about those." said Carson.

"Good. I believe we should put Branson on alert since he lives out in the cottage. He might be able to keep an eye out for any suspicious activity."

"Very well m'lord. Shall I unlock the armory closet and bring out the rifles?" asked Carson.

"Yes, bring out as many as you can. We'll need them."

The three men stood near the fire-place for several minutes wondering how something so awful could happen to the girl. The very thought that someone from the village could inflict such pain upon another human being seemed unfathomable, thus causing the three men to not even voice the notion. After several minutes of talking among themselves, they fell into a comfortable silence each left to their own thoughts, trying to find an answer to everything.

Roberts's fingers pressed into his tumbler as his eyes glazed over facing the yellow and orange flames without really seeing them and without really feeling the heat that the fire was giving off. Instead he stood beside his butler and his valet. One, he considered almost like a second father, the other his friend and brother. Despite that he had never really disclosed these thoughts to anyone, least of all them, the honest truth was that he still saw these two men as such. A father and a brother. Two men who he was about to entrust the safety of his family and his life's work to. Never in a million years did he think that his family's safety would be endangered in such a way. To his own knowledge he had never made any dealings that should have caused anyone so much fury that would drive them so far as to want to end their lives. Least of all drive an innocent girl to risk her very life to try to warn him of what was coming. That is if she was even trying to warn them in the first place. It could be that she may have run from someone who was trying to hurt _her_ or her own family. Whatever it was it was clear that there was an impending danger among them.

With a groan, Robert snapped back into reality with a single thought. He brought his hand up to his face berating himself for his own stupidity, and swore his stomach had just dropped several inches below it original place.

"What is it milord?" asked Bates.

"Mama. She can't possibly know what is happening here, and if we are indeed being threatened, she could be in danger at this very moment." Robert said in a rushed tone.

"Shall I tell Branson to get the motorcar ready?" asked Carson.

"No, not the motorcar, that will be too loud and obvious. We must be discreet about this, else they'll find that we are already aware of what is happening. We will need to send out the horses to pick her up." Robert replied as he pinched the bridge of his nose and cursed himself for his stupidity.

"Milord, forgive me for saying so, but wouldn't it be best if we sent out several of the stable boys along as well?" asked Bates.

"What are you thinking Bates?" asked Robert in an anxious tone.

"If there is indeed impending danger we should take the necessary precautions to protect the her Ladyship, there is no telling if they are already watching this house." Bates explained "I know that Johnston the Groom knows his way quite well around a rifle milord and Branson is quite capable of handling himself in a fight if I may be so blunt."

Carson frowned slightly at the notion. "So it is settled then, we send out the horses instead."

"Yes. Carson. You and Thomas will stay here with the ladies. Bates get ready. We leave in twenty minutes."

**So good? Bad? Hit that puppy down there and tell me!**

**Thanks for reading...**


	2. The Englishman's Troubles

**Here's one of the drabbles that I mentioned! Thanks to everyone who reviewed!**

**Chapter 2: The Englishman's Troubles**

** _Pans Labrinth_**

Robert sniffed and rubbed at the corner of his eye blinking against the chilly air. He swayed slightly as the horses galloped furiously towards his mother's house. God only knew if she was safe at all. Never in a million years did he think that something like this would be happening to him. Least of all to his strong willed English bred mother. He couldn't bear the thought of something happening to his family. He'd boldly admit that he wanted to weep in fear for even he did not know what to do in such a horrid situation.

"Milord we're here." Bates voice broke him out of his thoughts as the cart came jolted to a full stop in front of the Dower house.

The place looked lively for so dark a night. He gripped the revolver in his coat and eased himself out of the cart ignoring his stiff bones when something caught his attention.

"Bates…" he gasped, his eyes locked on the drawing room window. The orange shadows were easy to make out. Sitting on the settee was his mother; behind her a tall figure slowly approached her with the unmistakable shape of a gun in his hand


	3. Shock

**Chapter 3:Shock**

**_Hymn to the Sea James Horner_**

Doctor Richard Clarkson trudged wearily through the grand halls of the Crawleys' respectable home with a heavy heart. He always felt tired and spent after operations such as the one he had just performed moments ago, and this one in particular had been the most heartbreaking.

It was bad enough that he had absolutely no knowledge as to what had happened to the girl aside from the obvious gunshot. For all he knew the hallucinations that she was experiencing could have come from being forced to consume something toxic. To add more flame to the fire, he had nearly killed her. Moments before he was about to make the first incision on her abdomen, she had regained consciousness once more, thrashing around and screaming bloody murder, narrowly avoiding being impaled by his scalpel.

She left a strange impression on him; she acted like a caged animal in frenzy, desperately trying to escape some sort of danger. He could not for the life of him understand what had happened to her.

Richard quietly walked into the drawing room with a sigh. The room went silent the moment the ladies realized that he had entered.

"Doctor Clarkson, how is she?" Lady Cora asked in a wavering voice.

Richard glanced at her grimly while taking in the people standing around the room, all of them giving him their undivided attention. The ever stoic Carson tried in vain to make himself look neutral, his restless movements as he tried to keep still gave away all of his worry. The silence was smothering.

"The girl is critical, but stable," he said after what felt like an eternity. "There was indeed a bullet inside her, which I managed to remove. It looked like something that may have come from a hunting rifle. Her ribs were cracked, the bruising on her side was terrible. Her thigh bone was fractured and her knee was dislocated; she may end up walking with a limp. Whoever did this to her wanted her dead, obviously. The bullet I removed managed to pierce her side and damaged tissue that may be able repair itself with time, but she did lose a lot of blood. The child might not be completely out of the woods yet."

"She will survive, won't she doctor?" asked Sybil who he had sent down several minutes after stitching the girl up.

Mary reached out and squeezed her hand, trying to quell her fears.

Clarkson looked at her somberly out of the corner of his eye. "I…cannot say for sure at the present moment...she will most likely suffer from a fever after all of the damage done to her body. Her recovery is what is of utmost importance right now. If she can get through the fever tonight, she will be on the safe side and her chances of surviving will be much more likely, "he replied as his eyes closed shut.

"What can we do to help her?" asked Edith with a look of concern.

Clarkson's tired blue eyes opened once more, looking at Edith straight in the eyes. "We cannot do anything my dear girl. Nothing at all. The only thing we can do for her is make her as comfortable as possible, wait, and pray…" he said softly.

"Pray for what, Doctor Clarkson?" asked Mary.

"Pray that she pulls through, and that her will to live is as strong as her lungs. God knows she will need it," he replied grimly.

Richard stared at Carson who stood near the fireplace unaware that he was being observed. Richard could swear that he saw a glittering track slowly making a trail down the man's cheek. He walked over to him as the women quietly spoke amongst themselves

"Mr. Carson?" Richard quietly said when he stood right at his shoulder. But to his surprise he made no indication that he had heard him. "Charles!" Carson started and turned to face Richard in his butler facade.

"Dr. Clarkson may I offer you like a cup of tea, or a drink?" Carson asked his friend absently.

"No thank you Carson. Come, man. Are you quite well? You look white as a sheet."

The Scottish man stared at him with worried eyes. Carson looked around the room to make sure that the women were distracted enough to not notice the two of them.

"Richard, do you remember all of those horrible, horrible things that we saw when we served in the Boer War together? Do you remember the smell of death that lingered in the air every moment of every day, the fear in our hearts? How we were so desperate to help our comrades, but were so powerless to do so?" Carson asked quietly with his eyes on the fireplace.

"Of course I remember, Charles. A man does not forget those things," Richard replied.

Charles turned his head to face his friend ever so slowly, almost as if he was reluctant to look at him in the eye.

"Richard, during our time in the trenches I felt powerless. In those moments when I could do nothing to save those dying men around me. I haven't felt that helpless since. Tonight when I held that dying girl in my arms, I felt that same desperate feeling once more. I didn't know how to help the poor child." Carson's voice went hoarse with his last words.

"You did what you could to help her. It's out of our hands now. Whatever happens next is for God to decide, old boy." He patted the tall man's broad shoulder. "You helped her, and that's all that matters."

Carson nodded absently, still slightly put off. "I just wish there was more we could do…."

**A/N: Thanks for reading I hope you like it so far, I would love to hear what you think...**


	4. This is the way the World Ends

**Hey people! Here is the next drabble chapter, I hope you like it. thank you to those of you who have read and reviewed, it keeps me motivated. **

**Chapter:4 **

**This is the Way the World Ends****  
**

**_Adante tranquillo_  
**

"Get away from my mother! How dare you try to hurt her?" Robert shouted as Bates and young Branson pushed into the drawing room at either side of him, both brandishing revolvers. A loud silence fell upon the room; no one moved an inch or dared to draw a breath.

"Robert, would you care to explain why you are causing such a scene in my house with Mr. Bates and Branson like a pack of barbarians?" Lady Grantham asked in a deadly tone as she pierced her son with a stern gaze. Robert stood there dumbstruck as Jameson the butler took a cautious step back.

"M-mother?" Robert stuttered as his face flushed a crimson red. He stared flustered at the small rectangular box in the old butler's hand which held Lady Grantham's pin collection, it just so happened that it was similarly shaped to a gun. "Mama, I thought Jameson was holding a gun to your head!" Robert dropped his revolver to his side as both Bates and Branson followed suit and tried their best to look invisible. He threw his hand over his face as a flood of relief filled his hammering heart.

"Why in the world would you think that?" asked Lady Grantham in and incredulous tone.

"Mother it is a very long story we must leave immediately, we could all be in danger as we speak." Robert hurried towards the window peering out into the dark night. "Someone has attacked a young girl, and we believe she may have been trying to warn us of a possible threat to Downton."

"What?" Lady Grantham stood from the settee and stared at her son with worried eyes. "Whatever do you mean Robert?"

"Mama we think there is a possible threat to the household, and we must get you out of here right now. There is a dangerous person lurking out there, perhaps maybe more than one person, and they have already tried to kill a child. We must leave right away."

Lady Grantham stared at Robert, and then turned her gaze towards Bates and Branson who were watching her with grim eyes. "Robert, what exactly is going on?" her voice wavered as she leaned against her walking stick.

The room when silent once more as Robert turned away from the window to face his mother once more. He had never realized how far along she was getting. Her hair once laced with black strands was now more gray and on the verge of turning white. Her blue eyes looked old with age, and the lines around her face were now more visible than usual. For the first time in his life, Robert saw a look of genuine fear cross her features. And it pained his heart to see this strong and constant woman look scared.

After what felt like an eternity, Robert answered her question.

"I don't know mama. I don't know what is going on…."


	5. The Calm After the Storm

**Thank you to all of you who have taken the time to read this story, it means a great deal to me. I went over this chapter several times, I still think I could change several things but have decided to take the risk and post it for now.**

**Chapter 5: ****The Calm After the Storm**

**Nuvole Bianche- Ludovico Einaudi**

For the second time that night Carson found himself striding down the entrance hall to answer yet another knock by some unknown person. He was not greeted by the cold winter storm that had previously been raising havoc only hours before. Instead a slightly disheveled Matthew and his mother Isobel Crawley stood before him in the light drizzle that was falling on their dinner attire.

It was almost a shock for Carson to see the pair standing there in the doorway of Downton Abbey looking so formal and ready to take part of the dinner service. After the terrors that he had seen that night, their unfazed manner seemed out of place. Almost as if they had driven in from a completely different world; for all Carson knew they most likely come in from another world.

Isobel smiled cheerfully at him and Matthew held an umbrella over the both of them trying his best to keep dry. Carson stood there making stock still not making any move that indicated that he was going to let them in.

"Hello Carson." said Isobel after several long seconds.

"Hello Mrs. Crawley." Carson replied. Still he did not move from where he stood.

"May we come in Carson, it's getting quite windy." Matthew asked as he tugged at his scarf.

"Yes, of course! My apologies," Carson blushed as he quickly ushered the pair out of the chilly night and into the warm entryway. "I'll take those Mrs. Crawley." he took their coats and hung the on the coat racks, and then slipped the umbrella into the umbrella stand.

Carson led both of them down the hall and into the warm drawing-room where everyone was gathered as they all conversed with each other in hushed tones.

"Er.."Carson cleared his throat loudly. "Mr. and Mrs. Crawley milady "he stepped aside to make way for them.

"Oh no! I completely forgot about dinner; Cousin Isobel please forgive me." Lady Cora stood up from her chair as Mary made her way towards Matthew and Isobel. "Carson has Mrs. Patmore served dinner yet?"

"I believe she is making the finale preparations just about now my lady," Carson replied with a glance toward the mantel clock.

"Please have her serve dinner for us shortly, I do apologize Cousin Isobel we've had a rather…eventful night and we got sidetracked."

"Oh there's not need to apologize Cousin Cora Matthew and I are in no hurry at all," replied Isobel

"You all look rather glum, is something wrong?" Matthew asked as he glanced at Edith, Mary and young Sybil who had tears running down her face. "Sybil are you crying?"

"A child…"Edith trailed off unable to continue.

"Carson found a girl at the front door this evening." Mary seemed as if she was trying to keep her composure as best she could.

"Really? Whatever did she want Carson?" Matthew asked slightly confused.

Carson hesitated to answer the question not knowing how he should respond. "She wanted help Mr. Crawley."

"Help with what?" Isobel asked as she took a seat next to Cora.

"Cousin Isobel the girl has been shot in the stomach." Cora said quietly.

"Oh!" Isobel covered her mouth with a gloved hand. "The poor soul! Is Doctor Clarkson here already?" she asked as the nurse in her took place of the doting mother, and overbearing cousin.

"Yes he has already performed surgery on her and managed to remove the bullet. He believes that if she makes it through the night then she will have better chances of surviving, he went upstairs to keep vigil over her." Cora sighed overwhelmed with the nights events.

"But where is Cousin Robert?" asked Matthew as he sunk into the settee beside Mary in shock.

"Papa went to go fetch grand-mamma It seems that there is someone who is trying to hurt the child, and papa has fallen under the impression that she was coming here to warn us of some looming danger." Mary rolled her eyes as she took a sip of tea with a shaking hand.

"How naive can you get Mary?" asked Edith.

"Not as naive as you that's for sure." Mary said.

"You heard what she said! She was obviously trying to warn someone!"

"Yes but we don't know of what or whom!"

"How much more proof do you-"

"-That's enough!" Cora said in a stern tone. Both girls snapped their mouths shut and turned to look at their mother with shocked eyes. She rarely raised her voice to reprimand them and when she did it they knew that they had truly crossed the line. "Both of you are acting like children, we have a young lady who is dying and _might_ have possibly risked her life to warn us of some sort of danger. Whether she was here to warn us or not is of no importance! The fact is that she came to us for help and that is exactly what we going to do! We are going to help her, and she is going to get better and we are going to make sure that she is safe. So there won't be any petty arguments as to whether she was here to warn us or not! Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes mama." Edith and Mary replied in unison. Mary's cheeks blushed red as Matthew scrutinized her with his piercing blue eyes.

Carson watched as the room grew quiet. The clock ticked away loudly and the beginnings of another rain shower could already be heard from outside. The air felt tense and no one dared say a word for fear that they would say the wrong thing. Sybil drew her shawl tightly over her shoulders and sniffled as she made her way closer to the fire.

"Perhaps we should make our way to the dining room." Cora said breaking the silence after several long moments.

"We could wait for Cousin Robert and Cousin Violet if you want." Isobel said.

At her words, the door opened only to reveal a soaked Robert and Lady Crawley.

"Good evening everyone." said Violet.

"You're safe thank God!" Cora said with a relieved look.

"Had it not been for Roberts ridiculous antics back at my house I would have made it out with my sense of security intact." Violet said.

"Mama please don't exaggerate it looked like he was holding a gun!" Robert said in an exasperated tone.

"I fail to see how a pin box could possibly look like a gun to anyone Robert."

"What happened?" Sybil asked with wide eyes.

"Your dear father decided to play the tragic hero and barged into the drawing-room with Mr. Bates and Branson pointing guns at Jameson . I think he nearly gave the poor man a stroke!" replied Violet as she took a cup of tea the Carson had poured for her.

"Oh Robert!" Cora's amused face seemed to irk her husband. "You do jump ahead of yourself sometimes."

"Excuse me for trying to help my mother in a time distress. In case you have not noticed, war does bring out the best and the worst in people." He replied insulted by his wife and mother.

"Yes, but as it so happens my love we are not at war." Cora replied with a smile.

"Dinner is served milady." Carson announced.

"Thank you Carson, come everyone let us try to relax for a while it's been a hectic night." said Cora.

Everyone stood and followed Carson to the dining room slightly less glum than before.

**A/N:Downton Abbey, and Nuvole Bianche does not belong to me, the "Girl" does. ****Thanks for reading. **


	6. Shadows in the Night

**Chapter 6: Shadows in the Night**

**_Boy From the Midwest James Newton Howard_  
**

Rain softly fell upon the lush grass as the black night engulfed Downton; everything was still except for the _pitter patter_ on the ground. To any other person unfamiliar with life in the big house, it was just another typical night in York. The inhabitants of the house knew otherwise. A storm was coming, and this wasn't just any storm. This time their very lives would be shaken by it. The world would be turned on its axis with the sudden arrival of this young stranger.

Outside beyond the chauffeur's cottage in the clearing of the woods a slight rustle disturbed the stillness of the night. A small butt with a fiery glow fell down gently upon the dewy grass, and the sharp snap of a foot followed shortly after as it crushed it into ash. A tall looming figure stepped out of the dark woods with his worn boots barely touching the lawn of the grand estate. He surveyed the house for several minutes unnoticed by anyone, for there was no one there to notice him. She can't' have survived, it was impossible. So perhaps he could still make his move. Just not now. He had to be patient. He didn't want them to know what had hit them.

**So sorry about the late update, it appears that high school likes to try to kill it's pupils. This is one of those dabbles I told you guys I would be writing before a big chapter. I am still getting used to limiting my words I tend to overwrite sometimes, but I liked how it turned out. Hope you guys liked it, and take the time to review. **

**Thanks for reading...**

**Any guesses on who this mysterious "looming figure" could be?**


	7. Friday Morning Coming Down

**Terribly sorry for the long delay, real life is getting in the way of writing. Many thanks to Aussie Girl for helping me with this story. **

**Chapter 7: Friday Morning Coming Down**

_**The Hill-Mychael Danna**_

Robert took a deep breath and closed his eyes briefly as he tried to compose himself. He could not recall what the girl's face looked like since seeing her the previous night. All he could remember from the chaos was blood and her screams of pain and fear.

He had never in his life seen or heard a sight such as the ones she had made.

Of course, during his time in the Boer War he had seen countless men get killed in explosions. He'd even held a wounded soldier down as a doctor amputated his mangled limb. But during that time he had always been numb to everything going on around him. He had learned to block out most of the horrid things that were going on by keeping his thoughts on his beautiful wife who was waiting for him at Downton.

The thought of walking down the gravel pathways in the morning arm in arm with his Cora had always kept him going in the face of death and misery. Remembering that he would one day have her in his arms again gave him the strength to push forward with duty.

But last night had been nothing like being in the battlefield in Africa. There was no chance to think of happier times. Things had happened so fast that there was no time for him to numb himself to the harsh reality of what the child was going through. He had seen her fight three men like a wild bull. He had heard her scream in terror and pain. He had experienced it all too well.

With a soft sigh he slowly opened the door to her room. The drapes were drawn wide open allowing the faint sunlight and blue skies outside to grace the room. Next to the bed Richard Clarkson sat on a chair holding the child's hand, a worn Bible resting over his knee. Clarkson's soft snores rumbled across the room to Robert's ears.

The man always did have a soft spot for children; Robert could recall how gentle and playful he had been with his daughters when he would give them their yearly checkups. Nothing brought a bigger smile on his girls' faces than when Clarkson would present them with sweets after their good behavior.

Such a shame that his own wife and children had been torn away from him. No one aside from himself and Clarkson knew what had happened. The Crawleys had not been the only family affected by the Titanic on that fateful night.

Robert stepped further into the room watching the girl with attentive eyes. He took the armchair right beside Clarkson's just as the man was waking from his restless slumber. He blearily blinked at Robert for several seconds before letting the girls hand go.

"Lord Grantham, I'm sorry I must've dozed off..." He slowly began to stand up.

"No, no Clarkson, it's quite fine," he murmured, "don't stand please. I only came in to check on the girl. How is she?"

Clarkson placed his hand on her cheek, feeling her temperature. She looked as though she had more color in her face.

"Her fever broke around midnight; she's shown no signs of pneumonia after being out in the storm for so long, which is very fortunate. Now we must make sure that her wound is kept clean, if it catches infection the fever could come back and be potentially more fatal," he warned, running his fingers through his tousled hair.

"She will survive, however?"

"Yes, she should wake up within the next couple of hours. But there is one other thing I wanted to discuss with you..." Clarkson trailed off rubbing his eyes in frustration. To Robert's surprise when Clarkson looked up once more, his blue eyes had darkened with bitterness.

"What is it Clarkson?" Robert asked in an anxious tone, the worst scenarios came to mind as he watched the different play of emotions cross Clarkson's face. Could it be that Carson's suggestion had been true? Could she have been... Robert couldn't even bring himself to finish the thought.

"It seems that there was some foul play involved in her injuries," Clarkson replied as he gently lifted the girl's shoulder and pulled her night shirt down and pushed up a strip of gauze that he had placed over it.

"Dear God!" gasped Robert with wide eyes.

A large red angry welt shaped like a 'T' had been burnt into the girl's skin.

"Someone was obviously trying to make a statement when they got to her. It appears she had no chance to tend to the wound at all. It's a few days old at least" Clarkson explained as he reapplied some ointment to the scarlet skin before pressing the gauze to her shoulder once more and pulling her shirt back up.

Richard sighed and sat back down next to Robert. "What in the world is going on?" he murmured.

"I don't know," replied Robert, "but I think there's a storm coming Clarkson. And no one will be spared its wrath." His words softly died in the air between them.

They sat there silence next to the bed, with only the crackling of the fireplace to fill the room. They hadn't seen much of each other since the last of the hospital beds had been packed up into the army truck. And Robert was never one to call upon the village doctor for a social call. But he could not deny that he did feel the need to talk to the man to make sure that he was holding up well now that he was a widower.

"How are you, Richard?" Robert inquired after several long minutes.

The old doctor looked up, slightly taken aback by the question. "Well I'm," he trailed off not quite sure how to answer. "I suppose I'm well. The hospital still keeps me busy enough even though the war's been over for quite some time now."

"Really, I would think it does after all those poor boys that came through these halls. It's quite terrible to see what things can come to between countries and how anticlimactic the end seems to be."

Richard nodded in agreement. "Yes, I find it strange how things are falling into place around us. But not everything is the same. Not for those who didn't come back physically - or mentally."

Silence fell between them once more, each lost in their own thoughts until Robert decided to try to make another stab at his question. "Richard, what I really meant was how you are holding up with...well with your..."

"Living alone now?" Richard finished for him.

"Yes," Robert breathed out.

Richard was quiet for several long moments. He stared at the girl before them with a distant look in his eyes. It almost seemed as if he could see something that Robert couldn't. Some answer to his question. The patients probably were the answer for Richard. Perhaps that was what helped him cope with everything. Maybe it helped to have something to work for. Robert began to think that he probably wouldn't be getting an answer.

But with a sigh Richard began to speak. "Lord Grantham," he began, "it's now been seven years since the accident. And each day gets easier. But there isn't a day that goes by that my mind isn't with them in some way or another. But there's no denying that I've managed to move on with my life. And quite happily I might add, which is why sometimes I can't help but feel guilty for doing so," Richard told him in a low voice with wistful eyes.

"Why would you ever feel guilty for moving on? Unless you've... Have you found someone else Clarkson?"

Clarkson smiled. "I wouldn't completely put it that way."

"Who is she? Do I know her?" Robert asked with a broad grin.

But Clarkson was saved from any further questions regarding his love life when a groan made them both immediately turn their attention towards their patient.

"She's waking up!" Richard rushed to her side once more grabbing her wrist to check her pulse.

"Thank heavens," Robert replied as he walked to the other side of the bed.

The girl moaned and shifted slightly on the bed, and in one sudden movement she was sitting up on the bed breathing heavily as her grey eyes wildly took in her surroundings. For several moments Robert was convinced that she couldn't see him or Clarkson despite the fact that they were only inches away from her.

"Easy child, slowly. You're still quite weak," Clarkson murmured as he gently placed a hand on her shoulder, which she immediately jerked away from. "It's okay, we're here to help. Do you know who you are?"

Her eyes snapped towards Robert and watched him. Robert shifted uncomfortably under her piercing gaze. She seemed to recognize him.

"You... You're Lord Grantham?" she rasped.

"Yes I am, please try to rela-"

"Hold on just a minute, young lady. You still need to give your body time to recover," Clarkson interjected sternly as he tried to stop the girls attempted to stand up. "Please, just calm down and we'll do our best to hel-."

"No, you don't understand. I've got to get out of here!" she cried and pushed his hands away.

"Child! I will be forced to administer another sedative if you do not calm yourself this instant!"

The child stared daggers at the doctor and seemed to struggle to keep still as she had been ordered to. Robert began to think that she was going to strike him but to his relief, exhaustion seemed to take hold of her and compelled her to fall back against the pillows.

"Now," Clarkson began in a more soothing tone. "Can you tell us your name?"

Robert watched as she stared, scrutinizing the kindly doctor before her. "My name," she said in a pensive tone. "My name is Alessandra, Alessandra Benandanti."

"What an unusual name." Robert stated. She looked up at him for several seconds before staring morosely at the fireplace across the room.

"I need to get out of here. If not you'll regret ever letting me pass the door," she muttered darkly.

"Can you tell us what happened?" Robert asked, trying his best to ignore what she had said.

She sat there, silently contemplating what he had asked with a glazed look in her eyes. Perhaps that wasn't the best question to ask her; maybe the shock of it all would hit her in a displeasing manner.

"I can tell you," she replied quietly. "But I'm afraid I won't." She looked up at both of them with a weary expression. "I can't talk about it right now. And, someone else must be told of what is happening before I say anything. The whole story is not mine to tell just yet."

"Then tell us this: how did this happen to you?" Robert demanded, pointing to her shoulder.

"I was…" She narrowed her eyes as a pained expression crossed her features. "My father, who is a constable, or rather was, he came across some information that threatened the plans of a vicious organization. I managed to…" Her voice broke as she began to blink hastily trying to hold her tears back

"Our services will be extended to you for as long as necessary, but I cannot help but wonder why you decided to come here," Robert confessed.

"My lord, that's where my story gets complicated, and I'm afraid I cannot impart any more information." Alessandra sighed. "I must speak to your daughter, Lady Mary and your wife."

Clarkson broke in at this, "We will send them in later, Miss Benandanti, but for now, you must rest. Don't worry; you're safe here at Downton."

She nodded drowsily and soon again succumbed to sleep.

Both men stepped out of the room into the hallway, aware that their patient was now at a point where she could overhear anything they said.

"What do you think Clarkson?" Robert asked.

"I think that she's telling the truth. But we still need to know the whole story before you decide to take any further action," Clarkson replied.

Robert nodded in agreement. But one thought would not escape his mind. What in the world did Cora and Mary have to do with anything?

**A/N: As**** always thank you for reading. **


	8. Paranoia

**Chapter 8: Paranoia**

**_No Tracks In the Snow-Mycahel Danna_  
**

Mary sat near the French doors staring out at the expansive lawn trying to block out the ladies current argument on whether or not they should call the police.

Mama believed they were making a mistake in not doing so. Surprisingly, Grandmamma and Cousin Isobel joined forces and were protesting against it. Who knew what the poor girl had gone through? What would the villagers say?

Mary tuned their voices out trying to gather her thoughts. What could her respectable family possibly have done to set off such a chain of events? Slowly she felt a cold numbness consumed her.

**Terribly sorry for the long wait. I would like to hear your thoughts, and any constructive criticism you might have! I was wondering, do any of you listen to any of the songs that I post before the start of each chapter?**


	9. Karma

**Here it is everyone! Sorry for the wait! A million thanks to my friend, Aussiegirl for her help with this! **

**Chapter 9: Karma**

_**Colorblind-Scala and Kolacny Brothers**_

"She's awake," Robert announced as he walked into the library with Clarkson close behind.

Cora looked up from her current squabble with her mother-in-law as her husband offered the aging doctor a seat before collapsing into one himself.

"What did she say?" Cora asked feeling a slight shock at the unexpected news.

"Nothing much. No thank you, Carson," Robert said, waving the tall butler's offer of tea away. "She wanted to leave. She was very insistent about it as a matter of fact."

"But that doesn't make any sense, why would she go through all the trouble in trying to get here in the first place if she was just going to try leaving the minute she did?" Cora asked with a furrowed brow.

"I've no idea. She seemed to think it was important enough to risk her life again," Robert replied in a bland tone.

"What could possibly be so important that she is willing to jeopardize herself by going out there alone?" Mary asked incredulous to the girl's odd behavior.

"It appears that her family was killed by a gang of some sort," Robert replied.

Cora and Isobel gasped in shock whilst Mary and Violet stared in disbelief.

"Why would they ever do such a ghastly thing?" inquired Isobel.

Robert shook his head. "She wouldn't say. But there were some cruel intentions involved that much is obvious, and she barely managed to escape with her life. I'm having second thoughts about not alerting the police now," he muttered as he glanced back at Carson.

"That is all very nice Robert, but you've failed to tell us how she is," the Dowager Countess reminded him in a dry tone.

The room fell silent at her words. The question was in the forefront of their minds, but no one had expected Violet Crawley to be the one to ask it. They all looked to Doctor Clarkson for his answer.

"Well..." Clarkson cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably. "She's made it through the fever, and there are no signs of delirium aside from trying to leave the house. As I said last night, she could potentially end up walking with a limp due to the fracture of her fibula and femur. I cannot say to what extent the trauma will be. She's not given any detail as to what has happened."

"What do you suggest our next move be?" asked Cora.

"It's fairly simple really; she needs time to recuperate at the moment after being exposed to last night's terrible weather," Clarkson replied. "She has a bit of a cough right now, but that should pass in due time. I'm afraid that her weight will be a bit of a problem as well. She needs to put on at least another couple of stones; she is much too thin for her age," he said with a frown.

"Yes, I believe Mrs. Patmore will be able to fix that with no problem at all," Robert said.

"Who will you have monitor Miss Benandanti for now?" Isobel asked Clarkson with a look of concern etched on her face.

"Well, I would like Nurse Crawley to keep an eye on her, if that is not such an inconvenience to you," Clarkson replied with a questioning glance towards Robert.

"That would not be a problem at all. I am quite sure she would help without complaint," said Robert.

"I could assist her with anything that comes up if you and Cousin Cora don't mind," Isobel said to Robert.

"We would appreciate that very much, thank you," he replied.

"I feel that even though she is showing signs of improvement we must keep a close watch on her. The fact that she was so very determined to leave the house so soon after waking up is quite disconcerting," Clarkson voiced.

"Yes, we will be sure to do that," Robert replied.

"If she was so insistent on leaving do you not think that she might be trying to evade leading her attackers here? Why don't we just have her transported back into the hospital for the time being?" Mary asked.

Robert stared at his eldest daughter with disbelief.

"Really Mary, are you so selfish as to even consider throwing a child in need of our help into the streets! Have you considered the fact that she may be here to tell us something which could be valuable to not only your well-being, but to the well-being of this family? I am completely at a loss of what to say to you right now!" Robert replied sharply.

"Robert, please, calm down. I am sure she did not mean it in that way," Cora said.

"Really? Then how did she mean it?" Edith sniped.

"We must consider every possibility-" Cora raised her hand when Robert began to protest again. "No, I am not implying that we should have her moved, but we must look at this from every angle or else we could be falling straight into some type of malicious trap."

"Cora does have a point Robert," Lady Grantham said, leaning on her cane slightly. "Besides, you know what the Chinese say: keep your friends close, and your enemies closer." Her eyebrow rose in emphasis.

"Am I to assume that you consider a young girl suffering from a gunshot as an enemy?" Isobel interjected.

"No, Cousin Isobel, I do see their point." Robert sighed. "We have no idea why anyone wants to hurt her aside from the fact that her family has been killed for some unknown reason. And we can only rely on her for this information."

"But really! I don't see any sense in her coming here if she was just going to end up trying to torment this family!' Isobel said in an affronted tone.

"Well then, I assume you would be the first to fall straight through the trap if it came down to it," quipped Lady Grantham.

"Please, we must stop all of this quarreling. The fact of the matter is that we have a strange child upstairs whom we have no information about. We won't find any solution to our problems if we just continue to stand here arguing," Robert said in a weary voice.

"Milord," Carson suddenly spoke up. Everyone's gaze turned to the tall butler.

"Yes, Carson?"

"Might I make a small suggestion?" he asked in an uncertain tone.

"Go ahead, Carson"

"If your Lord and Ladyship do decide to continue to extend your hospitality to Miss Benandanti, we should first try to gain her trust before we continue to pry for more information about her."

Robert nodded. "Yes, I believe you are right on that note, Carson."

"Yes," Clarkson said as he stood up from his seat. "Well I am afraid I must get going now."

"Are you sure you won't stay for some breakfast at the very least?" asked Cora.

"No, thank you, Lady Grantham. I have several patients who require my attention back at the hospital. I'll be sure to drop by this afternoon to see how she is holding up. I thank you all the same."

"Of course, Doctor Clarkson, thank you very much. Just ring Carson here when you are ready for the motor to return to the hospital to pick you up," Robert said.

"Thank you, I bid you all a good day," he said with a slight nod before he strode out after Carson.

* * *

"I do apologize for not setting up a room for you. We weren't aware that you had decided to stay the night," Carson said in a low voice as he handed Clarkson his hat out in the entrance hall.

"Oh, there's no need to apologise, Charles," Clarkson replied as he put his hat on. "I wasn't planning on staying overnight in the first place. It wasn't until Lord Grantham walked into the room that I realised that I had overstayed my visit," he said with a wry grin.

"Please don't tell me age is finally catching up with you?" Carson quipped.

"Well, you beat me to it several years ago; I had to join you at some point. Couldn't let you have all the old rich widows to ye'rself now, could I?" Clarkson shot back with a mischievous grin.

Carson gasped in indignation. "I'll leave the widow hunting to you, thank you very much!"

Clarkson chuckled jovially. "My dear man, I prefer to let them come to me instead. They fall at my feet without any effort on my part," he replied sarcastically.

Carson huffed in disbelief.

"So, how is everyone downstairs? I don't have to go treat any faint fragile ladies, do I?" asked Clarkson with a roll of his eyes.

"No, I don't believe so." Carson sighed. "They all just had quite a shock at the news, is all. It's not everyday that we find death at the very door of Downton."

"No. But we have had death unfortunately."

"Yes. Miss Swire, Mr. Pamuk... William..." Carson's voice trailed off.

"What about Mrs. Hughes? How is she holding up?" Clarkson asked.

"As best as can be expected, I suppose. She has been quiet about the whole affair. Shocked with the whole situation, I assume," Carson muttered.

"Yes, I still cannot quite wrap my head around it. Do you think it's as they suspect? Do you think she really could be part of some plan to hurt the family?"

Carson narrowed his eyes slightly in thought for several seconds. "No," he said finally. "No, I don't think she is. What I saw in her eyes when I found her last night was genuine fear. I believe that whoever shot her was definitely not someone who cared enough for her well-being."

Richard nodded in agreement. "I know what you mean. She just seems very reticent, the way she composed herself when speaking about her family was quite…disconcerting."

"What would lead her to be so closed up?" asked Carson

Richard shrugged and shook his head. "It could be a number of things: abuse, the trauma of what's just occurred, she could be angry. Anything could cause her to not want to trust or open up with anyone. We cannot know for sure until we talk to her more, only then will we be able to measure to what extent she's been affected."

"I see. Perhaps the ladies will manage to get her to communicate with us."

"Yes, perhaps. I must be off now, Carson. I shall drop by tonight."

"Very well, Thomas has called Branson to the front already."

"Thank you."

With that Charles opened the door and saw him out of the house.

* * *

Carson stood in the drawing room once more, trying to follow the slightly puzzling conversation that was taking place before him.

"What do you mean she wants to speak to me?" asked Mary in a tone that echoed exactly how he felt.

"I have no idea; I gathered that you would be able to clarify things once I told you," Robert replied with a frown.

"Well, I can't say that I can," Mary said.

"Did she give any hint as to what she wanted to speak to us about?" asked Cora.

"No. It's like I said before, she didn't want to say anything but that."

"Well, this is just perfect," the Dowager Countess piped up. "Not even here for more than one night, and she's already making demands of us."

"How unfortunate, mama. I had hoped that your heart had softened somewhat when you inquired after her well-being," said Robert.

The Dowager Countess raised a gloved hand. "My dear boy, concern and sensitivity are two completely different things."

"Yes, well back to the subject at hand," Cora interrupted any further bickering between her mother-in-law and husband. "Do you think she is willing to tell us what happened?"

"That or she has some information which she wishes to blackmail us with," the Dowager Countess sniped.

"Really Cousin Violet, what type of dirty laundry could the great house of Grantham have that a young girl like this could possess?" teased Isobel.

"Oh, I can assure you that this family has been graced with its fair share of scandal."

"Really? Like what?" asked Edith, curiosity piqued.

"Well, legend has it that you're great Aunt Catherine was on the stage for several years. Your great grandfather found out when one of the tenants went to Ripon for a drink at a pub called The Black Bull."

"My, my. How very scandalous," Mary replied sarcastically.

"Your great grandfather Manning nearly had a coronary on the spot."

"How enlightening, mama, thank you for that."

Cora got everyone back on track again. "I think we should just get it over with and agree to see her."

"But what could she possibly want?" asked Mary in an exasperated tone.

"I do think we should all just stop asking that question, and have the both of you go upstairs and find out," Robert replied tightly.

"Yes, but I would like to get a quick bite to eat before we do so," said Cora. "Carson could you please make sure that Miss Benandanti gets a tray before we go up to speak to her?"

"Yes, Milady."

"Is breakfast still laid out, Carson?" asked Robert.

"Yes milord, and it is still quite warm." Carson opened the door and stepped aside allowing everyone to exit the drawing room.

"Thank you, we'll serve ourselves. Just make sure that the Miss Benandanti gets her tray," Cora said as she passed.

"Very well, Milady."

* * *

"Mrs. Patmore, could you please make a tray to take up to the girl?" asked Carson, stepping aside when a hall boy nearly sloshed water on his livery. The young man gave him a meek look before hurrying out of the kitchen.

"So, she's woken up then? Thank the heavens." Mrs Patmore set out a tray and began to put toast and a large bowl of porridge on it along with a tall glass of orange juice. "I had a cousin who once got shot in the chest while out hunting with my uncle, he was out like a light for a week."

"Really, what happened afterwards?" Daisy asked.

"Well, when he woke up, he couldn't tell his own rear end from the bed he laid on. Course I never thought he could do that even before he was shot."

Daisy giggled. Carson rolled his eyes.

"There you go, then." Mrs Patmore handed Carson the tray. "Maybe that will help her get a head-start on her road to recovery."

Carson stood there with the tray in his arms for several seconds before realization came over him. "What? I can't take it up to her that would be most inappropriate!"

"Well, I can't very well take it up to her either! And neither can Daisy; she'd probably wind up falling up the stairs with it the silly girl!"

"What about Anna or Mrs Hughes?" Carson protested. "Or Miss O'Brien for that matter. Though I would hate to throw that upon the sick child," he muttered under his breath.

"Mrs Hughes went out to the village with Anna to find some clothing for the girl to wear. None of Lady Sybil's things fit her. O'Brien had to go down to the attic to find her old sewing kit; she lost one of her Ladyship's coat buttons and is running like the devil trying to find it."

Carson huffed. "Well, nonetheless, it wouldn't... I can't-"

"Just this once, Mr. Carson, forget all of that and take the tray up to the girl before she dies of starvation for all of your sputtering around!"

The butler groaned in defeat before leaving the bustling kitchen.

* * *

Carson balanced the tray on his hand while knocking on the heavy oak door with the other. "Miss Benandanti, may I come in?"

There was a long pause. Finally a quiet response in the positive came. So faint, had Carson not been straining his ears and leaning close to the door, he would not have heard it.

He pushed the door open and entered the brightly lit room. The girl was sitting up with her sharp eyes scrutinizing him closely. She looked much more different than the previous night. Her skin had a healthier color to it. She no longer shivered in an attempt to keep warm like she had done when he had first found her. Simply put, she no longer looked as if she was at death's door.

Carson cleared his throat, aware of the fact he was staring. "I've brought you some breakfast, Miss."

He approached the bed and gently placed the tray on her lap. Her cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

"Thank you, sir, I appreciate it," she said quietly.

"My pleasure, Miss Benandnanti," he replied. He eyed her critically, as well as silently prompting her to eat. She ignored the food; only fingered the spoon, staring at it instead of her new companion.

"Are you the one that found me, sir?" she finally asked as Carson made to leave the room.

"Yes, Miss, I am." Carson stood up slightly straighter.

She nodded listlessly. "I recognized your eyes. I saw them before passing out…and your voice. I remember you shouting for someone. A woman?" Her eyebrows furrowed in concentration. "Mrs. Hughes, I believe." Her eyes shifted over to him

"Yes, I did." He blushed slightly. "Mrs. Hughes is our housekeeper here at Downton."

"How very nice," she said distractedly.

"Quite."

"May I ask your name?"

"I am Carson, the butler," he said proudly.

She raised her eyebrows slightly in response. "Pleased to meet you, sir. I am Alessandra Benandanti."

She extended her hand towards him. Carson hesitated for a moment before grasping it and giving it an awkward shake.

With a nod she grabbed her spoon again and moved it around the bowl, watching the white grain swirl around slowly.

"You must excuse my lack of social skills, sir. I've no idea how to carry on in such a big house, least of all hold a conversation with someone of a higher position than me."

"Not a problem, Miss Benandanti. I am sure you'll adapt in no time. The Crawleys are a respectable family and wouldn't judge you if you find yourself tongue-tied in their presence."

"I am sure of it," she said with a twitch of her lip. "Though I must say that I rarely find myself tongue-tied in front of anyone, sir. With all due respect," she added in that same listless manner.

"Yes, well, I hope you don't fail to see that they are very generous with their guests."

"Without a doubt, sir, I can already see that. I assure you that they have my highest respect and I am very grateful to them for taking me in. I only wish that they would allow me to leave. I don't want to intrude in their home for longer than necessary."

Carson found himself liking the child. "Not at all, Miss Benandanti. But I don't think you'll be allowed to leave for quite some time."

Her eyes swept to him before returning to the porridge in front of her. "We'll see," she muttered.

"Yes," Carson replied, slightly unsettled. "Will that be all, Miss?"

"One more thing, sir."

"Yes, Miss?"

"Thank you for saving my life. I will forever be in your debt," she said.

"You're quite welcome, Miss," Carson said with a smile before stepping out of the room.

* * *

"This is completely ludicrous," Mary said as her mother climbed the staircase in front of her.

"I agree, but we have to find out what's going on, Mary, and I ask that you please be polite with our guest. Remember we have to get her to trust us in order to get the information we need to understand what is going on," replied Cora over her shoulder.

"When am I ever rude?"

"Oh my darling, that is a discussion I would rather leave for another time."

Mary huffed in irritation as they finally came to the door to the guest room that they had placed their visitor in. With one last pointed look towards Mary, Cora knocked on the door. There was no reply for several seconds until they heard a sharp, 'come in'.

Cora pushed the door open and entered the room and Mary followed soon after. "Good morning, Miss Benandanti," she said with a smile.

"Good morning, Lady Grantham, Lady Mary."

"I hope you woke up feeling better than you did yesterday. You gave us all quite a shock at the state you arrived in. We were only glad that you got here when you did. Who is to know what would have happened if you had gotten here any later."

"Yes, thank you. I appreciate the trouble you've gone through in order to help me. I can't say how grateful I am," she said with a sigh.

Cora shook her head."It's no trouble at all. We're only too glad to help."

Alessandra glanced up at Cora and Mary with wary eyes. "I am assuming that Lord Grantham informed you that I wanted to speak to you?"

"Yes, he did," Mary replied.

Alessandra nodded and looked out the window again trying to find the best way to continue. "I... Let me warn you what I am about to tell you will be very disturbing. But I tell you this in an attempt to get you to prepare for what is coming."

"By all means, continue. Whatever it is I assure you we can bear the news," Cora said with confidence.

"All right then. Here it goes." Alessandra took a deep breath. "My father, Donavan Benandanti was a Detective back in Scotland. He'd been on the job for just over eight years. About four years ago, he unexpectedly moved our family to Bradford. He'd been stationed there for the sole purpose of following a lead on a case that he was assigned back in the year 1913." She paused, lost in thought for a moment. "I was about twelve years old when we arrived here. I remember that early on in his investigation he was always very restless. He was very careful to not allow any strangers to know too much about our personal lives. He never allowed my younger siblings or myself to go out to town without company. We weren't allowed to speak to anyone when we did go out, nothing more than a 'good morning' or 'good evening.' It was as if he thought that someone would be looking for him... for us. He'd say, 'Ye 'ave to be careful out 'ere. Ye don't know what these folks intentions might be.' I thought he was going mad for quite some time..." She swallowed thickly and blinked rapidly.

"We don't have to do this right now if you don't feel up to it," Mary said.

"No," her voice cracked slightly. "No, we must. Time is of the essence." She continued in a stronger tone: "It turns out that someone, or rather some people, were indeed watching us. A group of Turkish nationalists were keeping track of my fathers actions regarding the case."

Mary felt her heart sink to her stomach, and felt a surge of dread as she awaited the young girls next words.

"You see. The case he'd been investigating had been that of a Turkish Diplomat named Kemal Pamuk. A man who it is said died right here in this very house."

* * *

**A/N:** **Did I catch you guys off guard with the ending? I'd like to hear what you think! I recommend the song posted at the beginning of the chapter! Much more Carson/Hughes coming in the next chapters!**


	10. The Inconvenient Truth

**Chapter 10: The Inconvenient Truth **

_**Persuasion 2007 Theme**_

Mary's ears rung with the loud silence. Surely, her mind was playing tricks on her. This must be some practical joke.

One look at her mother's shocked face and the girl's grim expression told her otherwise.

How could this possibly happen? Were the sins of her past finally catching up to her?

Her heart hammered away at her chest, she could feel it pulsing in her ears. She squeezed her eyes shut hoping that when she opened them again she would find that it was a terrible nightmare. She opened them and saw that it was all so dreadfully real.

* * *

**Thank you to all of my lovely reviewers and followers, I really appreciate your support! More reviews are welcome! ****They keep me inspired! Carson/Hughes starts next chapter!**


	11. The Rebels Tale

**Hey guys! Sorry for the long delay! The next drabble will be up in a few days! Thanks for sticking through with me! Heres the first of Chelsie!**

**Chapter 11: The Rebels Tale**

**_Imagining-Brian Crain_**

* * *

Carson looked up from the wine ledgers which he had been staring at in vain for the past twenty minutes when a knock at his door roused him from his thoughts.

"Come in," he replied promptly.

The door opened and Mrs. Hughes entered his office holding her hat. "Good Morning, Mr. Carson. Anna and I have just come back from the village."

He heaved a sigh of relief. "Thank goodness," he said with a pointed glare. "I hope you both enjoyed it, because I shan't be granting you both another visit for a very long time or at least until Miss Benandanti is fully recovered."

Mrs. Hughes frowned. "Why? What happened?"

"Her Ladyship asked that I make sure that a breakfast tray be taken up to our guest and Miss O'Brien was nowhere to be found!" he replied.

"Oh Mr. Carson." Mrs. Hughes rolled her eyes as laugh escaped her lips. "You simply had to take the tray up to her, she wasn't going to have you dance an Irish jig."

"You may laugh now, Mrs. Hughes, but I dare say that we must hold our standards up now more than ever! We no longer have a war that can keep us from doing so."

"Yes, well, that is neither here nor there." She took a seat in front of his desk. "How is the lass?"

"She's awake and alert," replied Carson. "But I must say that she does appear to be very reticent. She seems to be well mannered. Very respectful from what I can see."

"There's no reason for her not to be. Even the people who live outside of this grand house do have some sense of decorum."

"Yes, Mrs. Hughes." He raised his hands in defense. "I was simply noting an observation," he said amiably.

"Very well then. Continue," she ordered with a smile, making his heart jump slightly.

"Well..." he trailed off. "There's really nothing more to say. We didn't speak very much. Although she did remember me calling for you before she fainted."

"More like shouting bloody murderer," Mrs. Hughes muttered.

"Yes well," he fumbled with his papers on his desk. "It's a bit hard to keep calm when there is a life at stake Mrs. Hughes. That's something that I learnt when I was in the Boer War."

Carson was silent for a moment as he desperately tried to suppress the memories of the loud gunshots and ground shaking bombs that he had lived through in his younger days. He could count on one hand how many times he had ever mentioned the war to anyone, and that said anyone was sitting right in front of him. Mrs. Hughes - Elsie, as he liked to refer to her in the privacy of his mind - had been the only person who he had ever really confided anything from his past to. She knew all about his days as a Cheerful Charlie's long before His Lordship, Bates, and Anna had ever found out.

She had been able to gain his confidence over many years of working together, and one night, as they shared a glass of sherry, he had confessed it all.

He had told her all about his days working with his father as a stable boy before eventually taking a position as a hall boy in the big house. But the Boer War was something that he had always kept close to his heart, hiding it in the deepest parts of his memories which he could find so that he would never have to think of it. Once or twice he had found himself unintentionally mentioning it during one of their many conversations together.

Though he never delved into much detail as to what exactly had occurred in the battle field. He never told how he had had to throw his body over a boy no older than sixteen to protect him from incoming fire only to have him blown up in his very arms.

He had never explained to her how numb he felt at night after all the guns had been silenced with only his aching body to keep him company. He had never told her how he had spent countless nights hoping that he would catch a glimpse of his friend, Richard Clarkson as he went on his rounds looking after the injured. She didn't know how he had prayed to God at night asking him to keep a good eye over his Lordship when he wasn't there to push him out of the path of a falling cannon.

But those slips of tongue over the years had been the only slips of tongue he had had about that dreadful time with anyone. Because she was his best friend.

"Mr. Carson?"

_He trusted her._

"Mr. Carson?"

_And she'd never judge him._

"Mr. Carson?"

_She would never judge him for the skeletons he hid inside his closet._

"Charles!" He jumped at the sound over her voice. Her green eyes had narrowed as she studied him with concern. "Charles, are you feeling all right? You were very distracted, you looked quite lost."

He coughed with a blushing face. "I do beg your pardon Mrs. Hughes. My thoughts just grabbed a hold of me."

She eyed him critically. "Would you care to share them?"

He contemplated her question for several long moments before glancing up at her. "When we were in the trenches, there would always be a moment when a young boy that I had been sharing a nice laugh with or a man that I'd been exchanging stories with about home would either get shot or blown up," he murmured as his mind took him back to those moments all those years ago. "Each time that it would happen, they would always get this look in their eyes. They would turn to me and our eyes would lock for those few seconds. But I wouldn't always see fear in their eyes. Sometimes I would see relief," he said in a matter of fact tone as he took a deep breath, and continued. "You see, at that point, they were just so desperate to get out. Desperate to escape the abominable things that we were seeing each day that they would welcome any chance of leaving. Even death."

Mrs. Hughes eyes softened as she watched him struggle to continue.

"I always ask myself if I could have done anything differently which would have altered the outcome… if I could have somehow spared them such horrible deaths. Perhaps it's wishful thinking on my part."

Mrs. Hughes shook her head. "No, it's not wishful thinking. It just means that you've a good heart in you, Mr. Carson. If you didn't feel otherwise I think there'd be reason to be concerned."

Carson gave her a slight smile. "I suppose I'm not as cold hearted as the other servants have taken me for."

"I daresay not."

They fell quiet for several moments again gathering their thoughts. He felt strange, having revealed too much.

"She thanked me, Mrs. Hughes." he said breaking the silence. "She thanked me for saving her life. And I couldn't understand why. I hadn't stopped any of the pain she was experiencing. I hadn't taken the fear that she was enduring in those horrid moments. Nothing I did leaves her life any better than when she entered this house last night. Yet she thanked me. And for a fleeting moment, I felt as if I had helped one of those young men back in Africa. It sounds overly sentimental and foolish I know but..."

"No. I don't think it sounds foolish at all Mr. Carson. Your heart still yearns to help those poor boys in some way. And she's given you the opportunity to help them through her. Spiritually," Mrs. Hughes added softly. "I must say I agree with her too. You did save her life. Had you not gone to the door when you had she most likely would have died."

Carson shuddered at her words. "Perhaps Mrs. Hughes, but I still fail to see what difference I have made."

"Then you're a right fool, Mr. Carson," she said sternly.

"I won't argue with that."

Mrs. Hughes huffed in reply. "Say what you will, we both know that you showed the girl sympathy which saved her life. And hopefully she'll be able to tell us what happened now that she's awake."

"Hopefully. His Lordship told Lady Grantham and Lady Mary that she wished to speak to both of them in private."

"My, my, whatever for?"

"He couldn't say."

"You don't think that Lady Mary has met her before, do you?" asked Mrs. Hughes.

"I doubt it; we would've heard her name by now. I've not heard of any families based here in Britain with the name of Benandanti," Carson replied.

"Perhaps they're not a distinguished family, but still have been acquainted with the Crawley's in the past," suggested Mrs. Hughes.

Carson shook his head. "No, I don't believe that's the case. His Lordship would have recognized her name and said something on the matter by now."

"Or...she might simply want to explain what's happened to someone of the same sex?"

Carson thought for several moments. "His Lordship and I did discuss the possibility of her having to..." He cleared his throat violently as his neck began to flush again.

"Yes?"

"Well, you know," he said stumbling over his words. "We thought she might have been forced to give knowledge of herself to a man."

Mrs. Hughes frowned. "Yes, that did cross my mind late last night. I just didn't want to have to consider it for more time than necessary. The thought of it is just so ghastly!"

"I agree. However, it doesn't change the fact that the possibility still remains," said Carson.

"But wouldn't Doctor Clarkson have said anything when he gave his report last night, or this morning for that matter?" asked Mrs. Hughes.

"That's right. I think he would've. Though we can't be completely sure, can we?"

"No, I suppose not. Let's just pray that that isn't the case."

"Yes, Lord knows what happened while she was out there," muttered Mr. Carson.

For a fleeting second, he couldn't help but imagine both of them kneeling side by side at the altar to the church praying together. The thought of both of them being in a position of such intimacy was slightly appealing to him for some reason. A place where so many people had declared and officiated their love for each other in the eyes of God.

He had never imagined himself ever being in the position of a nervous groom awaiting the arrival of his bride to be. Never considered the possibility of ever falling in love with someone who would be generous enough to reciprocate those same feelings and be willing to act on them. However, that didn't mean that he had never thought of it every once in a while. Even if it was just a simple fantasy.

Of course there were no such opportunities or possibilities that would grant him any of those things at this point of his life. Old age and years of work had worn him out. He was far too old to be toying with such ridiculous notions.

He was at a point in his life where it was probably best for him to begin settling all of his affairs. There weren't any close familial relations to whom he could pass down his life's savings to. He had no friends except for a few butlers who he had come across and kept in touch with over the years. But not so much that he would give them his money. It was frightening to think that he would die alone. The only person who he could really say he had any relationship with was Mrs. Hughes herself.

But, it wasn't done with their type of people in their line of work. No butler had ever left his savings behind to any housemaid simply for sharing a good working relationship with them. The thought made him scoff internally. But what he and Elsie had between them wasn't simply a good working relationship. What they had was friendship. A friendship which he valued so very much.

He sometimes thought it a wonder that they were still friends after all of the bickering they did. There were some points when he couldn't stand how she was so determined to the evolving world around them. At some points he thought he should sleep with one eye closed because he had upset her so much that she'd shoot him looks that made him feel as if she was going to smother him with his pillow that very night.

Yet, had it not been for her, he would have felt all the more lonely and his work would have been absolutely unbearable.

But that was all they were, and all they would ever be. Friends.

Perhaps he could make their friendship one that would leave such a lasting impression that there would be no question if he ever did list her as a benefactor. And he knew just how to go about doing it.

"Mrs. Hughes, would you like to walk to the church with me in the evening to say a prayer for her? And the family?" he asked uncertainly.

She looked at him with slight shock before answering. "Yes, Mr. Carson, I would like it very much if we did."

"Very well then. We should leave after dinner tonight if we can a manage it," he replied trying to hide the pleasure in his voice.

"Yes, we should. I'll meet you outside in the courtyard after we eat, yes?"

"Why not," he agreed.

"Very well then. I must be off." She stood up and walked out. Unbeknownst to Carson she had a great smile on her face.

* * *

. . . .

The silence made the big room feel claustrophobic. The insistent ticking of the mantle click above the nearby made the atmosphere feel all the more tense and edgy. Out of the corner of her eye, Mary saw her mother clutch the chair in front of her before collapsing into it. Her face had lost all its color, and her eyes were wide with fear.

This felt like one of the nightmares she was experiencing for months after her mother, Anna, and herself had dragged Pamuk's body across the house. She had lived in constant fear that someone would rashly point out that the handsome Turkish man had died in her bed. But no one aside from her mother, Anna, and herself knew that fact. And now here she was, sitting in front of a stranger whom most likely did know that very fact.

Mary turned her attention to Alessandra who sat there with her jaw clenched and her eyes set intently across the room in an attempt to avoid their eyes.

Mary swallowed the painful lump in her throat with great effort before speaking. "Please, continue with your story," her voice wavered.

Alessandra nodded. "Very well. So, my father was investigating the case of Mr. Pamuk's mysterious death when he got wind of some rumors being told up in London. He went over there to look into them. When he came back he looked a bit relieved, said that he would most likely be seeing the end to the case soon."

"Why? What did he find out?" asked Cora with tearful eyes.

"I beg that you don't think me cruel or gullible when I tell you this," replied Alessandra. "My father couldn't really give us any details because the investigation was still open. I only knew half of this because I happened by the file one day. But, from what I understand, he'd gone to the Turkish embassy to inquire after the rumor that Lady Mary had slept with Mr. Pamuk." She gazed at Mary with sharp eyes.

"How did they come across this information?" Cora gasped.

Mary closed her eyes feeling certain of what the girl would say next.

Alessandra paused for a moment before answering. "It appears, Lady Grantham that your daughter, Lady Edith, wrote to the ambassador informing him of this apparent act."

Cora covered her mouth with a horrified gasp as tears began to spill down her white cheeks. "Edith?"

Mary stood from where she'd been sitting on the bed then turned her back on both of them as she folded her arms over her stomach. The cold feeling of dread had spread to the very tips of her fingers. She felt her head spin slightly as she struggled to figure out what this meant.

"I'm terribly sorry, my-ladies," Mary heard Alessandra say distantly.

Surely there must be some mistake!" Cora insisted, snapping Mary out of her thoughts.

"No, mama. No. It's not," she said in a firm tone.

"Mary, you can't possibly believe that she would ever-"

"I do because it's true!"

Cora looked like If she'd been slapped. "What? What do you mean?"

"Before the war, during the season! When I was up in London, Evelyn Napier came to me to try to clear things up. He wanted me to know that it hadn't been him who had spread the rumor," Mary said in a flat tone. "He told me that Edith had been the one to write to the embassy. And that is the reason why everyone takes the rumor for the truth!"

"Oh heavens!" Cora cried.

"But how did this lead to your current state?" Mary asked puzzled.

Alessandra gazed out the window before replying. "Before my father returned. He overheard the Turkish ambassador speaking to a man who had been hired by Talaat Pasha, Mr. Pamuk's father to kill the woman who's bed his son had died in and the family who had helped her cover it up," she replied.

Mary groaned at how quick things had taken a turn for the worst.

"This man was the leader of a malicious gang called Yamruk. They're a notorious group who, rumor has it, have been hired by government officials to discreetly dispose of any unwanted problems. They take the law into their own hands. The last job that they were on was with a man who was blackmailing one of the ministers. They found him with his tongue cut out in the river."

Mary pressed her hand to her forehead in shock.

"The man, Abdi Polat saw my father when he was making his way out of the embassy. It had been fairly obvious that he had overheard them talking. He'd been the only one in the entrance hall. My father had gone home under the assumption that he would soon be able to put an end to all of this. He'd been meaning to come straight here and inform you of what was happening. But then he realized that Polat had sent someone to keep track of our whereabouts. It was a message: if you interfere, you're next. So he had to make a false report that the case had met a dead end. He didn't want to make another move until he was sure that they no longer had eyes on him. It remained that way for the next six years.

"Finally after the war ended, he thought that it would be safe to pursue his lead. He assumed that because the war had been won that they'd know that Britain wasn't one to be reckoned with. He informed his Detective Chief Inspector of what had happened; somehow the Turks got wind of what he'd done. The department still had to conduct a new investigation. That's why they did not immediately come to you."

She swallowed thickly, clenching her jaw more tightly as she struggled to maintain her composure. "My father wasn't aware that they had found out that he'd reopened the case. Until yesterday..."

She paused again as she squeezed the bridge of her nose, breathing evenly. Her face crumpled slightly before she let a small puff of air out.

"What happened?" Mary whispered.

Alessandra laughed humorlessly rubbing her face with her hand before finally looking at them. She looked defeated, almost as if she had been trying avoid this part of the conversation.

"I was out working on the fields with my younger brother Dohmnall when I caught sight of our youngest brother Allister running towards us," she recalled. "He looked a fright. He told us that three foreign men had come to speak to my father...and they were all armed. We all ran back to the house, when we got there our mother was laying on the floor of the kitchen. There was a pool of blood around her head. I didn't know if she was alive. They'd tied my father to a chair. They were beating him. One of the men grabbed Dohmnall and another that had a scar running down his cheek grabbed Allister and locked him in the cupboard."

She shuddered, and then continued: "Dohmnall was fighting as best he could, but he couldn't get away. I grabbed a pan off of the stove and smashed it against the face of the man with the scar. He was livid. So he dragged me outside several yards away from the house, and he threw me to the ground. And he got on top of me. We struggled for some time when he saw that I weren't going to let him have his way with me and he punched me in the stomach. Then, I could smell it."

"What?" asked Cora.

"The smoke. They had set the house on fire….with my whole family inside. The man screamed, and he keeled over. There was blood all over his chest. I looked through the kitchen window and Dohmnall was standing there with the hunting rifle in his hands. 'Run!' he said. 'Just run!' That's when the roof collapsed," she said softly as her eyes clouded over.

"I... I tried running back to the house," she breathed. "But the man hadn't died yet, he grabbed my ankle and I fell. By that point the other two men were coming around the house. When they saw what was happening they came after me. So I got up and ran. I ran as fast as I could, I suppose one of them eventually took aim and started shooting. I didn't notice straight away that I'd been hit. There were some cliffs right off of our land which went straight down towards the woods. So I jumped. I suppose my leg was injured because of that," she said vacantly.

"Yes," said Cora. "Doctor Clarkson believes there is a chance that you may walk with a limp."

Alessandra stared sullenly at the leg underneath the white sheet. "Well, my Ma always said it wasn't proper for a girl to run around as much as I do."

"I am sure it will only be a temporary thing. He did say it was only a possibility," said Mary.

"That is beside the point," Alessandra replied hastily. "My father intended to come here for the sole purpose of having your family discreetly relocated to another part of Britain or another island for that matter!"

"You mean, leave Downton?" Cora asked in disbelief.

"Yes," Alessandra rubbed her eyes wearily. "It's the only way we can safely hide you if we are to put an end to all of this malarkey."

"Surely there must be some other means of doing so. You cannot just expect us to up and leave our home-"

"I don't expect nothing of you, milady. I only ask that you consider doing so. This is the reason I left my own home and family back in Bradford to burn," Alessandra said with a wavering voice. "I came here with the intention of helping you. Just like my father had hoped to do. I will say this. If you do not heed my advice… you will almost certainly die."

Mary's face paled at her words. "But what will we tell papa?"

Cora closed her eyes overcome with distress. "I believe that the time has come to tell him the truth," she breathed.

"Oh Mama! You can't be serious!" Mary protested.

"I am most certainly serious. We've kept the secret long enough. Look what it has brought down upon this house! This family! It's even gone so far as affecting a family who had no part in this whatsoever!" Cora motioned towards Alessandra who averted her gaze.

"What reason? What reason will I give him?" Mary pleaded.

"What other reason is there? You were seduced, and acted on lust. You were foolish and fell straight into the arms of that man," Cora replied sternly.

Mary dropped her face in her hands and let out a sob. She nodded in agreement. "Very well. We shall throw my remaining dignity, and reputation to the wind."

"No, my dear. You did that long ago when you surrendered yourself to Kemal Pamuk," Cora replied in a cold tone.

"I'm sorry, Lady Grantham, Lady Mary, but I must ask what your plan of action is," Alessandra inquired quietly.

"I'm not sure," Cora looked towards her with a soft expression. "I am not sure. We must speak to Lord Grantham first. This is something which we must consider carefully."

Alessandra nodded. "Yes, I understand," she fumbled with her hands for a minute before gazing

longingly outside once more. "If you could just give me your answer before nightfall, I would be much obliged."

"Why the hurry?" Mary asked as she dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief.

"I must leave as soon as possible. No doubt they will get here within the next few days, or weeks. I cannot be here when they do. No doubt they will try to use me to get to you."

"How?" asked Cora.

"They'll want to spare my life in exchange for all of yours," Alessandra replied grimly.

"Then we could just take you with us! To wherever we decide to go-that's if we decide to go at all!" said Mary.

"I'm not sure. I want to get to them before they get to me," she muttered.

"Why would you want to go after someone who is out to harm you?"

"It's simple. For my family," she replied calmly.

"We will discuss this all in due time," Cora cut in with a tight smile. "For now, please just try to rest Miss Benandanti."

"Very well," she replied.

"We'll be back in a few minutes to speak to you," said Cora.

"Thank you."

On that note, Mary and Cora left Alessandra alone once more in the big empty room with only her thoughts for company.

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**AN: So what did you think? Did you like the Chelsie?**


	12. The Nerves

**And heres the next drabble! Thanks for the support!**

**Chapter 12: The Nerves**

_**Train Station Farwell Elliot Goldenthal**_

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The day went by in a haze of excitement for Carson. He still could not believe that he had actually asked Mrs. Hughes to walk outside of the confinements of the great house to spend time with him. Not that they were exactly going to _spend _time with each other. They were going to pray.

All the same, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of anxiety at the thought of being alone with her.

"Carson, my dear fellow, are you quite all right?"

Carson blinked. "Perfectly milord." He replied immediately.

No doubt, it would turn out to be interesting.

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**AN: If you would like to keep up with the status of the story see my profile! I update it constantly! Thanks for reading! **


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